


Last of the Real

by kohiya



Category: Free!
Genre: Developing Relationships, M/M, Rin being difficult (again/still), kind of future fish au, swimming scores only a brief mention, totally au though, uniforms yessss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kohiya/pseuds/kohiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which police officer Yamazaki Sousuke returns to his sleepy hometown of Iwatobi after being injured on duty in Tokyo. Still recovering from his shoulder injury, he finds out that his new partner is one person he hadn't been expecting to see.</p><p> </p><p>However, both Rin and Sousuke have their own issues, and this time they don't have swimming as the glue holding them (and everything) together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Playing Nice

**Author's Note:**

> So I have come to the conclusion that my university should offer writing crappy Sourin as a unit because I would _ace_ that shit. Also, the world needs more of it _and_ it's practically canon. There's butt-kneeing as of episode 10. C'mon. ~~no judgement, Rin. I'd be doing the same thing.~~
> 
> Sorry about the crappy title. On my computer, this story is literally called "Hey Future Fish! WAKE WAKE WAKE WAKE UP", so I thought that shamelessly borrowing a title of a song from my computer was a better alternative. This is debatable, however. 
> 
> This story basically stems from the notion that neither Rin or Sousuke have had their fluffy-as-clouds 'friendship makes everything better and amazing' epiphanies yet, (but they'd have considered each other their close friend even given that) and how life goes down as a result. Spoiler: It's messier, in more ways than one.
> 
> Also, uniforms. (None of Rin dancing like a dork in his, though. Yet.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If it doesn't work out, we'll reassess.” Mikoshiba's gaze was steady. “Having said that, it’s a last resort. Not an excuse for you to set out to make sure that it doesn’t work. Got it?”
> 
> The jibe stung, _but,_ Rin supposed, _it's probably deserved._

*

Sometimes, Matsuoka Rin reflected on something that a close friend told him, many years ago, when they were both young.

            _At ten, you’re called a prodigy. Fifteen, you’re called a genius._

_Once you hit twenty, you’re just an ordinary person._

Rin supposed, that if that was the case, he was nearing ten years into the ordinary and on the downhill slide to senility. It was a somewhat depressing outlook on life, almost as depressing as the haphazard mountain of paperwork looming on his desk (the desk he had only finished painstakingly clearing the previous morning. He suspected that he could put a name to the culprit. Not looking at a certain Nitori Aiichirou specifically).

“Matsuoka. A word.”

Even for a high achiever, even despite Iwatobi’s comparatively small population, Mikoshiba was young to be in charge of his own precinct. He was strict but fair, and despite the disagreements (shouting matches that had escalated into physical altercations that had almost cost Rin his job, if he was to be specific) that the two had had in the past, Mikoshiba was, on the whole, a good guy – if at times a frustrating one.

“What's up, Chief?”

Mikoshiba gestured for Rin to follow, which he did, but it wasn't until they were in the former's office that the silence between them was broken.

“We're getting in two transfers this week from different precincts. You will be working with one of them.”

“What...?” For all Rin complained about Nitori, they really _did_ work well together – and Mikoshiba knew it. “Why?”

“One of them I know well, and I think that he and Nitori will gel nicely together given some time. Mostly, though, both you and Nitori know the area better than newcomers to the area will, and there’s no point having two guys that don’t know their way around working together if it can be avoided.” Mikoshiba was staring at him in a “isn't this _obvious_ , Matsuoka?” sort of way, and, if he thought about it (grudgingly), it was a logical conclusion to reach. “The guy you'll be working with is a transfer from Tokyo. He's one of their best. Wonder what he thinks sleepy little Iwatobi is going to hold for him.”

“And if this doesn't work out?” he dared venture.

“If it doesn't work out, we'll reassess.” Mikoshiba's gaze was steady. “Having said that, it’s a last resort. Not an excuse for you to set out to make sure that it doesn’t work. Got it?”

The jibe stung, _but,_ Rin supposed, _it's probably deserved._

“If he's as good as you say he is, there won’t be any issues.” _Not the least because he’ll be capable enough of doing his own thing, and I mine._

Mikoshiba sighed. “Coming from you, that doesn’t exactly comfort me as much as it should.”

“Come off it, Chief. I’ve been on my best behaviour lately. Just for you.”

Mikoshiba’s scoff was – thankfully – one of mirth as opposed to disdain. “I doubt you know the meaning of ‘best behaviour’, Matsuoka. Luckily for you–”

Rin never found out the reasons behind his luck, because whatever Mikoshiba was going to say was cut off by the loud thud of the office door banging open, admitting someone that could only be another Mikoshiba. In the relative bounced with all the gusto of a two-year old on a godforsaken sugar high – in uniform, nonetheless. What the hell. _Why._

He wasn’t quite able to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

“… Wait. So, _this_ is the guy you think will work well with Nitori?”

Rin hadn’t worked with Nitori that long at all. It had been only about three months in the scheme of things, and he wouldn’t lie and say they’d always got along perfectly. Given all that, though, he could all too easily imagine the younger officer’s dismayed expression on being told that this bundle of joy was actually to be his partner for the foreseeable future.

“You see a problem?” Mikoshiba’s mild question was almost (but not quite) drowned out by the wails of protest of the younger Mikoshiba as the former proceeded to seize the latter in a headlock.

“… is that a trick question? Pretty sure I don’t have enough fingers to count the ways.”

Mikoshiba’s laugh was almost _too_ jovial. “This is Momotarou, my younger brother. He’s joining us as of today. Momo, say hi.”

“Hi,” Momotarou managed obediently despite the arm still around his neck, which Mikoshiba released almost as an afterthought.

“This is Matsuoka Rin. Matsuoka, say hi.”

This somehow felt like school all over again. “Yo,” he muttered as obligingly as he could muster, hoping fervently that his urge to scowl wasn’t showing on his face.

“ _Oh_ ,” was Momotarou’s succinct response, and what the hell sort of response was “oh” to that, anyway? Rin noted the look that passed between the brothers, and the lukewarm response suddenly started making a bit more sense. Even still, the reaction left him with an odd, swirling sensation in his stomach.

_Whatever. Not like I was ever here to make friends, anyway._

“You two are colleagues now, so play nice. That’s all.”

Rin exited the office without looking back, not needing to turn back to know that two sets of amber eyes were watching his departure.

*


	2. The longstanding pain in my ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah.” Seijuurou had moved to sprawl in his desk-chair. “Meet the long-standing pain in my ass; the one and only.”
> 
> “Whilst I think you could do much, much worse, you clearly both need sex-ed classes if he’s still a pain in your ass after all this time, Nii-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I liked serious!captain!Seijuurou in season 1, but I liked dorkybrother!Seijuurou in season 2 much more, I've tried to keep both - captain!Sei for when other people are around, dork!Sei for when Momo's around. Obviously, in this chapter, dork!Sei came out to play.
> 
> Next chapter: ~~Sex God~~ Sousuke comes out of his hidey-hole. 
> 
> Also, I need _all_ the Sourin after episode 11. (That said, there's literally none in this chapter. I'm sorry.)
> 
> To those that have left kudos and/or commented, thank you; ilu. <3 JunFiacre, this chapter should somewhat answer your question. :)

*

“So, he’s the one you’ve mentioned, then?”

“Yeah.” Seijuurou had moved to sprawl in his desk-chair. “Meet the long-standing pain in my ass; the one and only.”

“Whilst I think you could do much, much worse, you clearly both need sex-ed classes if he’s _still_ a pain in your ass after all this time, Nii-chan.”

Momotarou ducked just in time for the crumpled-up ball of paper aimed at his face to sail safely over his head instead. “Seriously, though! If he’s so awful – bad sex jokes aside – just give him the boot already.”

“Nothing in life is that easy, kid. And he’s damn good at what he does. He’s just exceedingly difficult at times.” Seijuurou’s smirk was an indicator of what was coming. “Kind of like you, really.”

Momotarou ignored the ‘kid’ reference in favour of pointing out the obvious. “I don’t try and give you a black eye on a weekly basis.”

Seijuurou groaned. “That hasn’t happened for almost three months now. And if you’ve somehow jinxed that, I swear to you that you will wake up one day and find yourself dead.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Besides, he has a really cute sister. If I give him the ass, I’ll never get to woo her.”

“How the hell did you get to meet his sister?” Momotarou spluttered. Seijuurou had flaws, sure, but picking out ugly girls from the crowd with the intention of wooing them was _not_ one of those flaws – quite the opposite. _In fact,_ Momotarou decided, _I want to meet this sister._

“She’s come here looking for him a couple of times. I think she’s wanted to have lunch with him or something, but he’s never been around when she’s dropped by. She hasn’t wanted to have lunch with me instead yet, but it’s a work in progress and I’m happy to persist.”

“You sure it was his sister and not his wife? Girlfriend?”

“Are you my husband?” Seijuurou retorted as he stood, gesturing for Momo to walk with him. “They look similar enough that it would have to be some weird sort of narcissistic relationship if it wasn’t his sister.”

_Okay, fair call._

“As long as _she_ doesn’t try and give you a black eye, Nii-chan.”

“Nah. I don’t think she’s like that. She must have got the sweet, mild-mannered genes in the family. They had to go somewhere, after all.”

Two people could be heard arguing in hushed voices as they approached the front desk.

“That is _not_ a good reason, Onii-chan. Please come and have lunch with me.”

“It is what it is, Gou. Take it or leave it. Maybe some other time.”

“But you said that the last time!”

Yes, Seijuuou’s expression definitely brightened upon hearing those voices, his step quickening enough that Momo had to increase his own pace or risk being left in the hallway. “Gou! Hi! How are you doing?”

“You _are_ cute!” Momo exclaimed upon setting eyes on this Gou – indeed, she was similar enough in appearance to her brother that there was no chance of mistaking the familial ties. Not that Momo had had any reason to doubt Seijuurou, but… Gou really was cute. _Adorable._ Petite, long burgundy hair, eyes the colour of a good wine. _You pick them well, Nii-chan. I’ll give you that._

She smiled sheepishly, taking a step backward closer to her brother.

“Can you two cut it out already?” Said brother was staring at them in a manner that suggested that, if looks could kill, he’d be quite happy to stare at them until they bled out (or at least contracted some terminal, incurable disease).

“You shouldn’t be so over-protective, Matsuoka! We’re just saying hello!” Seijuurou’s voice was as close to singsong as it ever got.

One look said that Matsuoka wasn’t buying it. “Right, well, you’ve said hello. Now move the hell along.”

“Have you forgotten the conversation we had so soon, Matsuoka?” Seijuurou asked lightly, and _that_ was one dangerous tone if Momo knew anything at all about his brother. Both the Matsuoka siblings seemed to recognise it for what it was, as well – the elder falling silent, gritting his teeth, the younger glancing worriedly askance.

“Gou. You should leave.”

She looked so apprehensive, but nodded all the same. “Call me later, Onii-chan. Please.”

Matsuoka muttered something inaudible that could have been “sure”, “no”, or “get the hell out” for all Momo knew, and only stayed as long as it took to watch Gou leave before disappearing down the hallway, hands in pockets.

Seijuurou sighed. “You’ve jinxed it, Momo. I know it.”

*


	3. Iwatobi's a small world, after all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then again, the years changed people, and the Rin Sousuke so sorely missed could be nothing like the Rin of the present day. He wouldn’t ever know.
> 
> So he had concluded, anyway, until one cool autumn day brought with it his transfer to the Iwatobi precinct, the strangest array of colleagues he could have imagined, and one Matsuoka Rin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is where I take vague concepts of things that happened in canon, throw them in a blender and hey presto - referencing bits of everything _ever_. Did you see what I did there?
> 
> Irrelevant fact: For the sake of this story, Rin studied in Melbourne. I like to think he has better taste than to study in the permanent gigantic traffic jam that is Sydney, ... or something? ~~Spoiler: Love an absolutely Not Bias Melbournian.~~
> 
> ~~ Also, we have better fashion sense than Sydneysiders and clearly, after episode 11, it's evident that Rin needs our influence, so it's really doing him a favour ♥ ~~

*

The icy chill of the wind – right off the sea – was making his bad shoulder ache. His hand went to it instinctively, gripping it tightly enough that he could feel the puckered scarring of the bullet wound through the material of his shirt. The scar was ugly – a sign of his weakness, a sign of his past failures.

_You should consider taking some time out, Yamazaki. It’d do you well to recover at your own speed._

_They want you out, Sousuke. Tokyo’s too high-paced. You’re a liability for them._

He understood what they meant. It was harder expressing that – as sad as it was – without this job he really didn’t have much else, which made it that much more difficult to let go.

The transfer had been the only logical choice. Iwatobi had never been an overly high-crime area, it would give him time to recover and he could still do the job he wanted at his own pace and, hopefully, in his own way.

Even still, Iwatobi brought with it memories of past people and past times. Fond memories, things that made him smile, as well as things that stirred up emotions of longing. _Want._ Things he’d coveted, but hadn’t been able to seize when he’d had the opportunity, and the opportunity had long since slipped from his grasp.

_Rin. I wonder what you’re doing right now._

Sousuke had heard bits and pieces from different sources. The stories regarding Rin’s successes were easily verifiable – he had been the media’s sweetheart at one point, the ‘next big thing’. He had been training for the Olympics and, from all accounts, there was no reason for him to _not_ succeed. He had the world at his feet, if the media was to be believed.

Then, suddenly, Rin had disappeared and Sousuke hadn’t heard from him since. It wasn’t until Sousuke had managed to get in contact with Gou several months later that he had found out in the space of Rin disappearing and that time, Matsuoka Toraichi – Rin and Gou’s father – had died suddenly, Rin had quit swimming (just like that), had severed contact with _everybody,_ and had moved abroad to study. Australia. _Why?_ He didn't really understand what Australia held (aside from some cuddly-looking marsupials; not exactly career material) and certainly not for Rin.

Even though it had been years since they had last seen each other – and who knew how they’d both changed in that time – Sousuke was confident that there had to be some sort of correlation between the incidents. Someone as passionate as Rin had been about swimming surely wouldn’t quit for a trivial reason. Surely.  

Then again, the years changed people, and the Rin he so sorely missed could be nothing like the Rin of the present day. He wouldn’t ever know.

So he had concluded, anyway, until one cool autumn day brought with it his transfer to the Iwatobi precinct, the strangest array of colleagues he could have imagined, and one Matsuoka Rin.

The chief of the precinct introduced himself as Mikoshiba. Mikoshiba had the brightest shock of orange hair that Sousuke had ever seen appear on somebody’s head outside of bad anime, and amber eyes that reminded him of a cat’s. Despite the currently blithe tone, Sousuke had no doubt that Mikoshiba could be extremely stern should it be deemed necessary – nobody could make it as far as Mikoshiba had done without the ability to take things seriously.

Mikoshiba gestured toward the open office with a flourish. “Welcome to the circus, Yamazaki. You can still leave if you want. Nobody will think any worse of you if you do.”

From the corner of the room, he heard a distinct thud, what could only be the sound of somebody’s paperwork falling to the floor, and an anguished cry of “Momotarou, no!”. He would later admit to briefly entertaining the consequences of taking up Mikoshiba’s offer.

“Your desk is there. Matsuoka will show you around. You’ll be working with him, so if I’m not around and you’ve got any questions, he’s your port of call. Right?”

_Matsuoka? Surely not…_

Sousuke followed the line of Mikoshiba’s finger, and it had been years, but he could recognise that head of maroon anywhere.

“Rin?”

Rin started at his voice, turned and gaped unceremoniously at him in a manner that would have been comical in any other situation. “Sousuke?”

The years had certainly been kind to Rin. Save some definition of features that hadn’t been there before, he looked exactly the same as Sousuke remembered. It was almost comforting to see that, and how they were able to fall into sync, greeting each other as though there had never been years stretching between them, separating them like an impenetrable crevasse.  

Not everything in life was as simple as a handshake, though, and it made sense that they had both changed. _It’s easy enough to keep telling yourself that, Sousuke – even if you sure as hell don’t want to believe it._

“You two know each other, then?” Mikoshiba questioned, eyes roving from one to other. “That makes things easier.”

Hell, Sousuke could almost _sense_ the relief emanating off the man, and he wondered if (and why, if so) Mikoshiba had been expecting things to go less smoothly than they had thus far.

“Yeah. We’re…” Rin looked over at him, almost as if seeking affirmation, but his gaze seemed to darken somewhat at whatever he saw there. “… friends, I guess.”

Mikoshiba’s brow rose but he said nothing.


	4. Can time stop here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you,” Rin murmurs.
> 
> “What for?” Sousuke questions, threading his fingers through Rin’s vivid locks because he can (and, at that moment, it seems like the right thing to do because it feels like Rin is _his_ ).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short. It's also more than vague (just) allusions to Sourin sexytimes. You're welcome.
> 
> Next chapter might be a while; I apologise. There's a bit of a continuity gap between this and the next chapter and I'm trying to fix it up.

*

_“Sou… Sousuke.”_

_Rin’s breath stutters uselessly against his cheek, tentative, gentle – so unlike the fingernails that rake across his back as though setting the tone for a challenge. Sousuke’s riposte is wordless, simply to thrust deeper, more forcefully, quietly enjoying the guttural moan elicited in response._

_“Asshole…” Rin gasps out between those deliberately deep thrusts._

_Any other time he would respond – and so on the conversation would go, backwards and forwards like a tennis match, as it always did – but he’s close now, they both are, and words were meaningless amid something as carnal as unadulterated lust._

_Rin is the first to find his peak, fingers clenching so forcefully around his shoulders Sousuke’s sure he will have bruises the next day, and it doesn’t take Sousuke long to follow suit._

_There are no whispered confessions or declarations of love like in the movies, but they don’t need words to know that something between them has irrevocably changed. Sousuke doesn’t verbalise this – as though speaking it would render whatever happened between them non-existent, as though perhaps if he did, Rin would somehow disappear._

_A chaste, careful kiss is pressed to his lips. “Thank you,” Rin murmurs._

_“What for?” Sousuke questions, threading his fingers through Rin’s vivid locks because he can (and, at that moment, it seems like the right thing to do because it feels like Rin is_ his _)._

_“For being you,” is the simple response, and he doesn’t know what to say._

_Rin falls asleep soon after, curled up against Sousuke’s side as though he was made to fit there._

_(The happiness he feels is absolute and he wonders if he can make time stop here.)_

_The next morning, when Sousuke wakes up Rin is gone. He doesn’t know it at the time, but it will be close to eight years before they see each other again._


End file.
